


In the Club

by mific



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Dom/sub, Fanfiction, Light BDSM, M/M, Politics, Post Episode: s05e20 Enemy at the Gate, Resolved Sexual Tension, SGA Secret Santa 2017, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-17 12:09:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13076574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mific/pseuds/mific
Summary: After a day of infuriating IOA hearings about the future of Atlantis, John, his team, Daniel and Vala go clubbing. But Vala’s been machinating behind the scenes, and Cam’s got his own agenda.





	In the Club

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DorothyOz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DorothyOz/gifts).



> Written for the 2017 SGA Secret Santa exchange, for dorothyoz who wanted John/Cam, in a largely canon setting. Time-wise, this happens after the end of Series Five.

 

~~~~~~

“Day 1, IOA Special Advisory Subcommittee Hearings, City of Atlantis, US Territorial waters 11 miles west of Monterey,” MacMillan intoned into the recording microphone. He was chair of the Subcommittee and the United Kingdom representative.

"Dr McKay and Colonel Sheppard." MacMillan stood as a security officer ushered them in. Cam leaned back a little in his chair, eyeing Sheppard who was looking pretty good, especially if the reports Cam had read were to be believed.

MacMillan gestured for McKay and Sheppard to be seated and turned to introduce the panel. "This is Representative Maxim Vronsky from Russia, Representative Matilda Lyall from Canada, Representative Qui Zheng from China, and I believe you know Colonel Cameron Mitchell, Acting Representative for the United States. Cam inclined his head, trying to keep a poker face. McKay's mouth opened, probably to say something undiplomatic. Sheppard shifted position subtly—Cam figured he was kicking McKay under the table. McKay yelped, then covered it with a cough, glaring sidelong at Sheppard. Cam looked down, hiding a grin.

"Representatives, pleased to meet you all," Sheppard said pleasantly. He nodded at Cam. "Colonel."

"Colonel," Cam nodded in return. Sheppard was a full bird now—nothing like saving the planet to get you promoted.

"If you've quite finished playing Colonel-Colonel, _Colonels_ ," McKay said snippily. Cam hid another grin. Sheppard was right: McKay did grow on you. "Since when did you get to be on the IOA, Mitchell?" McKay's eyes were narrowed in suspicion.

MacMillan intervened. "Unfortunately, Representative Greenbaum had a fall. He's recovering from hip replacement surgery and incapacitated for quite some time. Colonel Mitchell was available and we felt his experience might prove useful."

McKay rolled his eyes. "Please, the Wraith could eat the Ori for breakfast, literally, and polish off a few Goa'uld for dessert."

"I've got two words for you, McKay," Cam said, putting a touch of lazy drawl in his voice to wind McKay up. Sheppard's eyes narrowed—Cam bet he used that trick on McKay all the time. "Partially-ascended, and mind-control."

"Strictly speaking, that's four words," McKay said, glaring across the table.

"Hey now, let's not play 'my villain's more bad-ass than your villain'," Sheppard said easily, clasping his folded hands before him on the table. He cocked his head at MacMillan. "How can we help the Subcommittee? Or, more to the point, how can the Subcommittee help us get Atlantis back where she belongs? Back to Pegasus."

"Ze Wraith," Vronsky said, leaning forward across the table, thick black eyebrows drawn into a solid line by his frown. Tell us about ze Wraith."

McKay turned his glare on Vronsky. "I know for a fact that Richard Woolsey gave you all a 200-page briefing booklet, not to mention video footage of the latest Wraith shenanigans."

Vronsky waved a hand. "Pish. Words. Paper. I wish to hear from ze mouth of horse itself."

"Oh well, Colonel, that's _your_ cue, then." McKay sat back, looking smug. Sheppard shot him an annoyed glance.

"Yeah, sure . . . " Sheppard rubbed the back of his neck. "Where d'you want me to start?"

"As your Louise Carol says, start at beginning, go until you reach end, then stop," Vronsky said, waving an expansive hand.

"Riiight," Sheppard said. Beside him, McKay groaned and sank his face into his hands.

~~~~~~

"I don't know about this, guys . . ." John said doubtfully, setting the cloaked jumper carefully down on the darkened rooftop Vala had identified from a previous "reconnaissance" trip to the club, and opening the back hatch. "The hearings have only just gotten underway and we can't afford for anything to go wrong."

"Nonsense, John, don't be a party-pooper," Vala said breezily as they all got up and stretched. "After that dreadful meeting with the fools from the IOA you all need to relax and let your hair down." She ruffled his cowlick. "Or up, as the case may be."

"Hey now, watch it!" John ducked away from her and tried to finger-comb his hair back into some semblance of . . . he sighed and gave up. It'd do what it wanted—it always did. "That's your team leader Colonel Mitchell you're bad-mouthing."

"Well, strictly speaking SG1's on indefinite hiatus," Daniel Jackson put in, deftly maneuvering Vala away from John. "With me in Atlantis studying the database and Vala . . . helping"—Vala smirked and made a kissy face—"and Teal'c off with the Free Jaffa and Sam commanding the  _Hammond_. I mean, Cam was probably going nuts from boredom back at the SGC. Not surprising he'd jump at the chance to come out here for the hearings."

"Even if he has to hang out with tools like Vronsky?" Rodney said, twisting around to try and squint at his own ass. "Jen, are you sure I have to wear this getup? The pants are so tight they're cutting off circulation to my legs."

Jennifer slapped him lightly on the ass, and John had to swallow and look away. "They are _not_ too tight. And yes, you do have to wear them, Rodney, because I'm in charge tonight, remember?"

"This is all your fault," Rodney told Vala. "Clubbing wasn't enough for you, oh no, it had to be _kinky_ clubbing."

"It's only a _little_ kinky, Rodney," Vala said, beaming. "Quite tame, really, compared to . . ." She paled a little, then busied herself adjusting the clasp on Daniel's collar. John figured she was remembering her time as a host to the Goa'uld Qetesh and winced in sympathy. Daniel stroked her hair and murmured something in her ear, ushering her out the back hatch onto the rooftop.

"I am greatly looking forward to this adventure," Teyla said. Unlike the others who were all in black, she was head to toe in skin-tight brown leathers, the revealing top laced with rawhide thongs while knee-length boots raised her height by an inch or so. Ronon was in matching pants and collar, his muscular chest barely covered by a skimpy leather waistcoat.

 _Damn,_ John thought ruefully, _I'll really have to watch myself what with Ronon's chest and Rodney's ass in those tight black leather pants._ It wasn't usually this bad. His teammates weren't usually quite this hot. The three women had planned the outing, guessing the hearings would be frustrating and they'd all need to let off some steam. They had a dom-sub dynamic going for the three couples. John figured Daniel and Ronon were good-humoredly playing along to escort Vala and Teyla, but he thought Keller and Rodney were actually pretty into it, for all Rodney's bitching. Just as well the women were all dominant—if John'd had to handle a guy he was attracted to in that role, it'd have been hard not to go to his knees at the first command.

"I am sorry we could not arrange a partner for you, John, with Atlantis so depleted of personnel," Teyla said, smiling up at him impishly. "But it will leave you scope to . . . play the field, to use your football idiom."

"Nah, I'm the designated driver," John said, grinning back at her. "I'm just gonna enjoy the show and watch you guys wow the joint."

"Pretty sure Teyla can handle the two of us," Ronon said with a smirk.

John raised his eyebrows. "What makes you so sure I'd be a sub, huh?” he said, just to be contrary. “I _am_ the team leader, after all."

Ronon snorted and Teyla patted his arm affectionately. "But of course, you most certainly are, John."

Feeling mildly aggrieved for no very clear reason, John followed them out and locked the jumper, pocketing the remote. He hadn’t gone for the whole leather fancy dress shtick, just tight black jeans and a black tee. It’d have to do. He headed across the roof after the others to where an EXIT sign glowed green by the emergency stairs.

~~~~~~

Cam sipped his bourbon and surveyed the crowded club from an upper balcony. He didn't feel like dancing after the interminable day of hearings, in fact he'd have to watch himself; it was tempting to keep drinking and drown the day's frustrations with alcohol. The place was mostly a dance club on this level, for all the leather, straps and buckles in evidence. Vala'd told him the more hard-core BDSM patrons played on the lower floors, where there was a dungeon. Maybe later, if things worked out.

He was feeling the bourbon down in his toes by the time he saw Vala lead Daniel onto the dance floor, one finger hooked through the D-ring on his collar. Daniel was talking and gesticulating, probably protesting that he couldn't dance or didn't want to. Cam shook his head—there was no arguing with Vala when she had her mind set on something.

He saw Teyla and Ronon across the far side, dancing as though they were sparring, an admiring crowd edging back to give them room. He looked more closely—actually, they _were_ sparring, or doing katas anyway, timing their moves to the music. A quick flurry of limbs and Teyla had Ronon down on the floor, one booted foot on his back. The onlookers applauded and she bowed her head in acknowledgement, then gave Ronon a hand up and let him clear a path for her through the packed crowd to the bar, striding behind him like a diminutive queen.

Cam looked around, wondering if Vala'd brought any of the others, and saw McKay and the doctor, Keller, kissing in a booth against the wall. Keller had her hand in McKay's hair, tugging on it and pulling his head back so she could suck and bite on his throat. They made a pretty picture.

"Hope Rodney's got that high-necked blue shirt of his ready for tomorrow, the one with the zipper," drawled a voice beside him. "He's gonna need it for the hearings, after that."

Cam turned his head. "Sheppard."

Sheppard raised his beer bottle in salute, then took a swig. "Mitchell." Cam lifted his bourbon, nodded and drank. "Didn't expect to see you here, especially now you're with the IOA."

Cam made a face. "You know I'm not really with them. I had to get out of the goddamn SGC, though, before they shunted me permanently into a desk job."

"Not looking to replace Landry?"

"Landry's not looking to step aside, and no, sending others off through the Gate and doing nothing but paperwork doesn't appeal."

It was John's turn to grimace. "Yeah. Don't know how Elizabeth and Sam handled it." He drank some more beer. "You don't wanna be assigned to another Gate team?"

Cam shook his head. "Nope. It'd be . . . weird, after SG1, and with the Ori and the Goa'uld defeated we're mostly up against the Lucian Alliance. I had my fill of fighting other humans in Afghanistan."

"Point," Sheppard said, nodding. "Can't always avoid it, though. The Genii are supposed to be our allies now, but it was bad there, for a while."

"Like that Kolya jerk." Cam shivered. "Making the Wraith feed on you . . ."

Sheppard was silent, tight-lipped, his shoulders tense. "Sorry," Cam said after a while. "Didn't mean–"

"You really _do_ read all the reports, don't you?"

Cam shrugged. "Yeah, I really do." He figured he'd better change the subject; Sheppard still had a touch of the thousand yard stare as he gazed down at the packed dance floor. "So," Cam said, trying for casual. "You here to play?"

"What?" Sheppard shot a look at him, then looked away, his cheeks slightly flushed. "Nah, I'm just here to watch my team's backs."

"Yeah, right," Cam said, not buying it. He nodded down at the gyrating masses where Teyla and Ronon were doing some sort of stamping dance surrounded by an enthusiastic audience, Daniel and Vala were slow-dancing and McKay and Keller were . . . not in their booth. Huh. Maybe they'd gone downstairs. Well, good for them. "Doesn't look to me like they need you, right now. Sure you don't wanna hook up?"

Sheppard laughed nervously. "Careful there, Colonel. Almost sounded like you were propositioning me."

Cam set his empty glass down on the table at his elbow. "That's 'cause I was, Sheppard." He gestured at his tight black leather pants and jacket, the blue silk shirt that Sam had told him matched his eyes. "What, you think I dress up like this every day?"

Sheppard shot another sidelong glance at him, licked his lips and looked away. His cheeks were flushed again. "Not worried about DADT?"

Cam snorted. "It's on the way out, and 'sides, we're untouchable. Saviors of the world, remember? O'Neill wouldn't let anyone hassle us, Sheppard, so don't worry about it."

"You can call me John." Sheppard was looking down at his hands on the railing. The tips of his ears were pink.

"Yeah?" Cam moved closer and cupped Sheppard's face, turning it so Shepard was forced to meet his eyes.

"What do I call you?" Sheppard asked, voice a little breathy.

"What would you _like_ to call me?" Cam watched him steadily, stroking the ball of his thumb across Sheppard's—no, John's—cheek.

"Sir?" It was almost inaudible, and Sheppard's pupils were blown, wide and dark.

"Yeah," Cam said, leaning in for the kiss. "I'd like that, too."

~~~~~~

John woke from a dream about running through the catwalks high over Atlantis, then rolled on his side to watch Cam sleeping. They'd had proper king-size mattresses put in all the VIP suites for the IOA bigwigs, so there'd been no contest about which room to choose.

Moonlight slanted in through the partly-drawn curtains, illuminating the stretch of carpet where Cam had put him on his knees and ordered John to suck him. John shifted pleasurably, remembering. His ass ached a little as he moved, another reminder.

Cam's eyes were open when he next looked. "Vala totally set us up, didn't she?" John said.

Cam grinned. "Yeah. She's always got some plan afoot." He stretched "You up for round two already? C'mere."

John went willingly, opening his mouth as they kissed and moaning when Cam revisited the bruises he'd left on John's neck a few hours earlier. Rodney wasn't the only one who'd be wearing a high-necked zippered shirt to the hearings. The hearings. Shit. He pulled back a little.

"Isn't this," he waved a hand between them, "a pretty big conflict of interest for you? What with being on the IOA Subcommittee, I mean?"

Cam sat up and grabbed a water bottle from the nightstand, drinking deeply and offering it to John. He drank as well, then handed it back. Cam slid down and propped himself on his left elbow, reaching out with his right hand to tease John's chest-hair and his nipples. "That would depend on what my interests really were, now, wouldn't it?"

John arched into the touch, feeling his cock start to fill. "What . . . what _are_ your interests?" he managed, his voice hoarse.

"Apart from you? 'cause I've had my eye on you for quite some time. Only, we were in different galaxies and all." Cam slid his hand down to John's ass and pulled him in closer. He was hard again, too.

"Yeah," John managed. "Three million light years do put a dampener on hooking up. And for the record, I might've been interested in you for a while, as well. Just a little."

"Good to know." Cam grinned. "Well, you heard that I like to read reports, right?"

 "Um, yeah." John bit his lip, eyes fluttering shut involuntarily as Cam pressed him back into the bed, covering him and moving insistently against him. Cam took his wrists and trapped them on each side of John's head.

"Yeah. That's good, Christ you're so good, John."

John moaned, thrusting up helplessly. "Please . . . need . . ."

"Hold your horses, we'll get there," Cam said. "I'll explain this, and you're gonna listen, right, John? No coming until I say so."

John panted and writhed, then made himself go limp, letting Cam rut against him and touch him wherever he pleased.

"That's good, John. You're so good." Cam moved his hips rhythmically, staring down. "As I was sayin', I do read reports, but I don't read just _any_ old reports. Ask me which ones I read."

"Wh–which ones, s-sir?" John couldn't help arching his hips up to meet Cam's thrusts, just a little.

"Why, the ones about a team I'm fixin' on joining." Cam grinned and pulled John's wrists together, reaching out with his other hand for the tube of slick. "Like SG1."

"But–" John moaned, trying desperately to remember what he'd been going to say, as Cam slid a lubed hand down between them and gathered both their cocks up. "But, you read _our_ reports. AR1's. Atlantis's."

"Like I said, I'm kind of over the Milky Way, and especially the SGC. Figured I might try something new, if you'll have me."

John went still. They were both full Colonels now, but Cam had more time in grade. The IOA might feel he outranked John and put him in charge.

"Relax, I'm planning to retire. I'm not after your job."

"Oh." John let out a breath and sank back into the mattress. "That's . . . that's good."

"Figured I could consult, maybe help out with training, like Sodan techniques. Plus we should get some F-302s for Atlantis, now Earth's upgrading to the new F-306s." Cam's hand had stilled but he began moving it again, stroking and pulling. "Think Atlantis'd want a slightly used ex-Colonel along with a fleet of used F-302s?" He did something wicked with his thumb and John groaned.

"Yeah . . . shit yeah . . . if they let us go back . . . If they'll let you . . . oh, oh please . . ." John trailed off on a whine, writhing desperately under Cam.

"They'll let me come," Cam said, "and I reckon that's your cue. C'mon, come for me, John."

John cried out, bucking, cock jerking in Cam's hand. Cam followed moments later, collapsing on top of him, a heavy, comforting weight, before he rolled off and grabbed a washcloth to clean them both up.

When he got back into bed, he nudged John over onto his side and curled in behind him, draping an arm over John's waist and splaying his hand on John's belly. John snuggled back against him. "So this stint on the IOA," John said through a yawn, setting Cam off as well, "you planned it so's to help get Atlantis back to Pegasus?"

"Sure did," Cam said. "Look, there are no guarantees, you know that, but I'll do everything I can. They're shit-scared of the Wraith, so we've got to convince them Atlantis can keep the fuckers at bay more effectively when she's in Pegasus, rather than this ambulance at the bottom of the cliff crap about keeping the city here."

"Yeah, I know. No guarantees," John agreed. Good to have Cam on the Subcommittee, though, and on their side.

"No guarantees about this, either. Us."

John felt himself tense up, because man, that was fast for a brush off. He didn't usually get dumped until a few weeks into an affair when his partner got frustrated with how crap he was at talking about feelings. "No. Right. Of course." He pulled away from Cam and sat on the side of the bed so as to grab his scattered clothes and book it back to his own room.

"The fuck you going?" Cam was half-sitting up, looking puzzled. He scrubbed a hand down his face. "Wait, wait. You thought that was me dumping you?" Cam shook his head. "Jeez, John, you're the main reason I want to _join_ the Atlantis mission. I just meant it's early days and we barely know each other. I mean, we're good in bed, right?"

John allowed him that much with a faint grin and an eyebrow lift. He hadn't been this well fucked in years.

Cam nodded and lifted a hand. "Yeah, but we need to get to know each other properly, hang out, maybe date some, if we can keep it on the down-low."

John grimaced. "I'm not much good at . . ." he waved a hand, encompassing Nancy and a handful of frustrated partners before her, back through college and high school. Not to mention Teer from the time dilation place. _That_ had only happened because he was trapped.

"No one's gonna make you talk about your feelings, Christ. Will you get back in the bed?"

John shrugged, then slid in beside Cam, who curled up around him again.

"Let's just give it a try, alright?" Cam murmured into the back of his neck.

"Yeah, okay." He wasn't alone any more; he had family. Teyla and Ronon'd talk him down off the ledge if he panicked, or just beat him up in the gym: that worked pretty well as an alternative. Rodney'd be completely useless yet strangely comforting.

John reached back and grabbed Cam's hand, holding on. "I can do that."

 

~~~~~~

the end

 


End file.
